


The Corpse's Name

by AmethystAuthoress



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, There's Some Hope at the End Though, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystAuthoress/pseuds/AmethystAuthoress
Summary: Set nearly right after Christine has unmasked Erik, she struggles to connect the face in front of her with the angel she knows...





	The Corpse's Name

The corpse looked at her like it was dying a second time. Its eyes opened wide before scrunching closed, painfully tight. Its breathe caught as it sharply inhaled. Its whole body seemed to freeze before it trembled lightly.  
"Christine..."  
The word was said weakly. It was more of an exhale than a word, but she heard it all the same.  
The skeleton moved closer to her and she stumbled backwards. A small whimper left her throat.   
"Christine...please," the creature begged, "it's just me. It's your Angel. Please...I...I would never hurt you. Never. Not you. Please."  
It started to move towards her again, but fell to its knees as she stumbled back.  
"Don't run from me," this time it begged, "I don't think I can take it. Close your eyes if you must. Just listen to my voice... I could bring you back to the surface! You'd be away from this monstrous face - you'd never have to see it again. It was just all a nightmare and we'll continue our lessons and I'll only be a voice and...oh...Christine..."   
It was crying. She realized this through the numb haze she was feeling. It's horrible face was scrunched as it cried and tried to hide in it's hands.  
With the face more hid from sight, Christine's mind started to clear. She closed her eyes and took several deep, steadying breathes before once again looking down at the trembling thing before her.  
So this was her teacher. Not an angel. A liar. A hideous looking liar. Though had he ever actually called himself an angel, or had she just assumed it?   
The creature's body was shaking as it sobbed and clutched the small tufts of hair. The thing was crying. Her teacher - her Angel - was crying.   
She took another quick inhale through her nostrils. Then her small heeled feet clicked against the floor as she gathered what it was she needed and held it out.  
The thin hand was cold as it took back the mask.  
"Thank you Christine."  
He looked up at her like she was a goddess. She didn't know how to respond, and her voice wouldn't work.  
"I'm not your Angel," he breathed, "but nor am I a monster...however I may look. I am just a man. Just a man, Christine."  
She still did not speak.  
He sighed before straightening his suit nervously and leading her back up the stairs to her dressing room. He almost led her by her arm as he had before, but after she flinched from his touch, he made no attempts the rest of the way.  
It wasn't until he was stepping back into the mirror - into his world of night - that she spoke.  
"What is your name?"  
His mouth dropped in surprise and he gulped once before darting his eyes up to meet hers.   
"I was once called Erik."


End file.
